Read Welcome to Paradise for Free Online

military-looking man with white hair, wearing khaki drill shorts and a bush jacket, was strolling along the path towards them. He eyed Alix with frank curiosity. He called out:
    “Hullo, Herrold. Nice morning.”
    “Grand, sir.”
    “Caught anything?”
    “A few nice steenbras.”
    “Lucky. Not even a nibble last evening. Well—that’s fishing, isn’t it? S’long.”
    When he was out of earshot Richard said, “That’s Colonel Braines, ex-Indian Army. He’s just sold his place to my father. That’s it, over to the right of ‘Laguna.’ ”
    “I know.”
    “Do you, indeed?”
    “About the Chambers, too. Have they signed on the dotted line yet?”
    “They will. This morning, actually. Who told you?”
    “A Mr. Gore came to call and warn my aunt.”
    She expected Richard to look amused. Instead his face seemed to close up.
    “So you’ve already met the local Midas?” was his dry comment.
    Midas? A school-book memory flashed into her mind. Midas, the king whose touch turned everything into gold. She glanced up at Richard.
    So he doesn’t like Eric Gore either, she thought. What’s more, he doesn’t even like my knowing him. She said lightly, “I took him for a foreigner, a German, perhaps. But my aunt said that was nonsense. She seemed to think he was pretty special.”
    “H’m.”
    She waited for Richard to comment further; but all he said, with rather cool abruptness, was, “Well, better run in and dry off, Alix. Mustn’t get chilled. I’ll be seeing you.”
    Without waiting for her to reply he had left her, and was splashing through the shallows in the direction of his boat. He didn’t look back.
    Alix called Nelson and ran with him back to the house.
    Her cheeks were warm and she was aware of a curious elation, both pleasurable and vaguely alarming — as if at some challenge whose significance she didn’t quite grasp.
    Quickly she slipped into her room. There she stripped off her wet swim-suit, towelled herself, and rinsed the salt from her hair.
    At eight-thirty, composed and dressed in a bright shirt and linen slacks, she joined her aunt for breakfast.
    Lady Merrick eyed her with frank pleasure.
    “So nice to have you here, dear. Slept well?”
    “Not very, Aunt Drusilla.”
    “Oh? Why not? Bed not comfortable?”
    “It was lovely. And so is my room. And Nelson and I had a heavenly swim this morning, early.”
    “Then what...?”
    Alix came straight to the point.
    “I’m afraid I was worrying. One of Bernard’s letters, the latest of the three, rather upset me. I’d like you to read it, if you will, and tell me what you think of it.” She took the air-letter from her bag and handed it over. Her aunt poured herself a second cup of coffee, donned formidable horarims, and read it through twice, slowly.
    “H’m,” she remarked at length. “This Barrett—who is he, exactly?”
    Alix explained.
    “Any family?”
    “His wife. His mother too, I fancy. And a daughter.”
    “Age?”
    “Twenty-one or two.”
    “Pretty?”
    “Very, if the snapshot Bernard sent me is a good likeness. Do you think...?”
    Lady Merrick removed her spectacles and shook her handsome grey head.
    “You’re not going to like this,” she said kindly. “But for what my opinion is worth, I think something —perhaps this Sandra, perhaps not—has made Bernard feel he’s not quite so ... so sure ...”
    “Yes,” Alix agreed in a small voice. “Yes. That’s rather what I thought too. I just wanted to know if it struck you the same way. Do you think he’d like to — to jilt me, Aunt Drusilla?”
    “If he would, he hasn’t quite got the guts to say so,” was the dry response.
    Alix was silent, thinking. She buttered a piece of toast, and absently spread it with marmalade, which she had always disliked.
    “So what do I do now?” she asked at length.
    Her aunt lit a cigarette and blew out a mouthful of smoke before replying. Then—
    “You could let him go,” she suggested.
    “But...”
    “ Or you